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BY  KNIGHT  &  LEONARD, 
CHICAGO 


ILLUSTRATED  By  KNIGHT  61  LEUXARD,  POINTERS. 

MYKA  MANT.EV  A:;D  W.  DE  MEZA  Ci^c.-vGO. 


- 

«••*«••     .-<  J«a« 


BONITO  (Bo-w-to). 

CASTLE  RIM-K,  A  rugged  point  bounding  th'_-  beach. 

CARPEXTERI'A  (Car-pen-te-nr'-a),  A  lovely  valley  thirteen  miles  distant. 

CACITAS  (Ka-sO  tas),   A  mountain   pass. 

COLD  SPRING,  A  brook  coming  down  through  a  rugged  canon  into  Montecito 

EL  MOXTKCITO  (ce'to),  A  valley  adjoining  Santa  Barbara. 

SANTA  CRI  z  AND  SANTA  ROSA,  Islands  lying  across  the  channel. 

SAN  LKAXDRO,  A  sightly  knoll  in  Montecito. 

SAN  RAPHAEL  (Ra-fa  eij.  AXD  SANTA  YNE/,  Two  ranges  of  mountains 

SAN  Bt'ENA  VENTURA,  A  village  thirty  miles  south. 

THE  Rixcox  (Rin-kon  |,  A  mountainous  promontory 

TECOLOTE  I  Tek-o-lo-te  t,    A  rancho  and 
canon. 

THE  MUSA,   A  level  plateau  toward  the 
west. 

THE    VEXTURA,      A     rapid     mountain 
stream. 

THE    Oj.u    (Oh!),     A    beautiful    valley 
forty  miles  inland. 


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MORNING  breaks  gloriously  over  the  bay  on  this  the 
great  day  of  Santa  Barbara's  Equestrian  Review.  Dur- 
ing the  night  a  light  rain  has  fallen,  and  the  little  hamlet,  like 
a  young  bride,  has  arrayed  herself  in  all  her  charms.  From 
Carpenteria  and  El  Montecito,  from  Goleta,  Glenn  Annie, 
and  Tecolote  the  happy,  care-forgetting  people  have  gathered 
in  their  best  array.  The  streets  are  lined  with  bright-colored, 
eager  groups,  and  the  wide  sombrero  and  the  jingling  spur, 
the  dark  hair  and  flashing  eyes,  the  liquid,  softly-flowing 
sounds  mingle  freely  with  the  blue  eyes,  yellow  locks,  and 
harsher  vowels  of  the  North. 

The  sun  has  passed  the  meridian  and  turned  toward  his 
rest  beyond  the  Mesa.  There  is  peace  in  the  flower-scented 
air,  in  the  long  swell  of  the  sea,  in  the  deep  silence  which 
broods  over  the  mountains,  and  in  the  white  flocks  feeding 
beyond  Mission  Creek.  There  is  peace  in  the  low  murmur 
of  humming  birds  busy  among  the  roses.  The  blue  haze 
down  the  valley  is  but  the  breath  of  content,  and  the  solitary 
sail  crossing  the  bay  seems  the  white  ensign  of  universal 
tranquillity.  The  ancient  bells  in  the  tower  of  the  old  Mis- 
sion are  pealing  forth  the  gathered  rest  and  quiet  of  a  cen- 
tury. The  eager  buds  have  hastened  to  throw  wride  their 
petals,  and  the  gay  little  lizards,  harmless  as  beautiful,  warmed 
by  the  generous  heat,  flash  in  and  out  among  the  rocks.  It 


2O  IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

is  a  day  in  which  the  joy  of  life  should  reach  high-water 
mark ;  a  day  in  which  to  love,  and  hope  for  love  again ;  in 
which  to  laugh  with  never  thought  of  sighing —  a  perfect  day 
for  Santa  Barbara's  great  review.  And  lo !  from  the  open 
fields  above  the  Arlington  moves  out  a  glittering  cavalcade, 
and  winds  slowly  along  the  avenues. 

It  is  a  gay  and  shining  troop 

That  steps  so  proudly  down  the  way  ; 

'Twere  worth  ten  years  of  eastern  life, 
One  glance  at  their  array. 

Silken-coated,  clean-limbed,  gayly  decorated,  high-stepping 
steeds  !  Smiling,  red-cheeked,  bright-eyed  children  !  Lovely 
maidens,  fair  dames,  and  gallant  cavaliers  !  Squadron  after 
squadron,  marshaled  each  by  its  o'.vn  captain,  with  its  own 
silken  banner  floating  overhead,  and  gay  with  flowers  and 
decorations  of  its  own  shade  and  choosing  —  roses  and  rib- 
bons, ribbons  and  roses,  for  bridle  and  collar,  for  shoulder 
and  breast-knot  —  and  mingling  with  it  all  the  sound  of 
champing  bits  and  trampling  hoofs,  of  merry  laugh  and  jest. 
Ah,  yes  !  it  is  a  goodly  company,  and  wonderfully  bright  and 
picturesque,  and  whether  most  enjoyed  by  those  onlooking, 
by  horses,  or  by  riders,  it  were  difficult,  indeed,  to  say.  How 
proudly  does  Wild  Diamond  bear  the  day's  grand  marshal ! 
and  how  Wicked  Jim's  black  eyes  are  snapping!  yet  his  an- 
cient rider  sits  him  as  if  his  threescore  years  and  ten  were 
but  a  dream.  Conde  and  Sorrel  Dick  bear  their  beautiful 
burdens  with  placid  self-complacency,  while  Del  and  Mack 
drift  dreamily  on  with  the  eddying  current  of  life  and  motion. 
Pet,  the  petite,  with  dainty,  dancing  step,  is  coy,  as  it  be- 


'    V  f.    ; 

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'     ^T  •     -  •/—  - — i 

JA   -> ;  / 


22  IN  THE  LOVELY  LAND  OF  SUNSET. 

hooves  young  maidens  all  to  be;  while  great  black  Bonnethon 
is  longing,  through  every  tingling  vein,  to  set  a  thundering 
pace  across  the  hills  and  plain.  Ojai  —  brave  old  Ojai  --be- 
neath his  wealth  of  flowers  and  smilax,  holds  his  own  in  step 
and  carriage  with  the  shining  lights  of  this,  another  genera- 
tion. And  lo  !  Long  John  has  just  unloosed  another  reef, 
and  stretches  out  as  if  each  stride  would  mark  a  league. 
Blue  Dick  grows  restless  lest  he  lose  the  chance  to  air  his 
stunning  English  trot,  while  Selim —  Bay  Selim,  the  Arabian 
proselyte  —  seems  meditating  o'er  his  master's  system  of  the- 
ology. And  so  they  come,  a  shining  train  of  noble  steeds 
and  courtly  riders.  They  pass  along  until  at  length  the  beach 
is  gained,  when,  wheeling  round  near  Castle  Rock,  each  squad- 
ron all  abreast  and  beautifully  aligned,  banners  flying,  steeds 
plunging,  with  the  sweep  of  a  rushing,  mighty  wind  the  entire 
cavalcade  comes  galloping,  galloping  on.  How  the  pulse 
quickens  and  thrills  !  The  brain  and  the  blood  catch  fire,  and 
the  whole  air  seems  steeped  with  the  sense  of  power  and  free- 
dom, of  joy  and  gladness. 

And  yet,  through  all  this  harmony  of  peaceful  sea  and 
mountains,  of  life-quickening  sunshine,  gay  steeds,  and  ban- 
ners, of  joyous  sights  and  sounds,  there  runs  one  note  of  sad- 
ness. .Upon  the  grassy  knoll  there  stands  the  little  maiden  ; 
the  lithe  and  supple  greyhounds,  with  footfalls  light  as  air,  are 
playing  round  her,  but  no  white  Bonito  stands  beside  her. 
Not  yet  has  he  appeared.  There  are  tears  in  the  bright  eyes, 
which  the  brave  little  soul  smiles  and  smiles  away.  Oh  !  that 
there  should  be  such  beautiful  times  and  she  not  in  them  ! 
To-day  all  who  are  unmounted  are  undone.  To-day  the 
horseman  is  a  king,  the  foot-man  but  a  lowly  serf.  Alas  ! 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET.  23 

poor  little  Marguerita  !  All  her  kingdom,  her  dogs  and  dolls 
and  playthings,  she  cannot  barter  for  a  horse  !  And  so  there 
is  sorrow  and  disappointment  in  the  bend  of  the  head  and 
the  drooping  curls,  tears  in  the  brave,  bright  eyes,  and  sad- 
ness in  the  dear  heart.  And  close  at  hand,  beneath  the 
shadow  of  a  mighty  oak,  sits  one —  child  of  the  glowing  sun- 
shine, merry-hearted,  heroic,  golden-souled,  serene  —  and  as 
the  little  maid  looks  longingly  upon  the  passing  cavalcade, 
thus  looking  on  life's  shining  pageant,  so  bright,  so  beautiful, 
so  joyous,  fast  hurrying  by,  the  brave  soul,  still  like  the  little 
maiden,  smiles  and  smiles  the  gathering  tears  away. 

Meanwhile,  unseen,  unnoticed,  way  down  the  coast,  where 
the  blue  mountains  fade  away  into  the  blue  sea,  one  solitary, 
snow-white  cloud  appears,  and  draws  on  apace.  Buena  Ven- 
tura has  been  passed.  The  Rincon  falls  behind.  Rapidly  it 
skirts  along  by  sunny  Carpenteria,  and  sails  quickly  over  Mon- 
tecito,  when  lo  !  a  strange,  a  wondrous  thing.  This  fleecy 
cloud  is  not  a  beautiful  cloud  at  all,  but  in  its  stead  appear 
two  winged,  milk  white  steeds,  their  nostrils  red  and  glowing, 
their  white  manes  floating  in  the  wind  like  comets  streaming 
down  the  sky.  The  one  is  riderless.  Upon  the  other  sits  a 
king's  messenger,  the  dark-eyed  Alessandro.  Descending 
swiftly  to  the  grassy  knoll,  the  gay  young  courtier,  dismount- 
ing, to  Marguerita  speaks  : 

"  Senorita,  I  have  ridden  long  and  far,  and  bring  a  mes- 
sage from  the  king.  He  would  that  there  should  be  no  tears 
or  sadness  in  the  Land  of  Sunset.  He  bes^s  the  Ladv  Mar- 

o  * 

guerita  put  her  sorrow  by.  and  accept  from  him  the  winged 
steed  Bonito.  He  is  swift  and  tireless  as  the  eairle.  as  e 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OK    SUNSET.  25 

as   the  south  wind,  and  as  beautiful  as  day.     Will  the  fair 
senorita  mount  and  ride  with  Alessandro?" 

Will  Marguerita  mount  Bonito  ?  Will  Marguerita  ride 
with  Alessandro  ?  Will  the  sun  shine,  the  winds  blow,  or  the 
brooks  seek  the  sea  ?  Scarce  can  she  speak  her  thanks  before 
one  little  foot  in  Alessandro's  palm,  one  little  hand  upon  the 
pommel,  she  springs  into  the  saddle,  and  waits  with  sparkling 
eyes  and  wildly  throbbing  pulse  the  word  from  Alessandro. 
And  like  an  arrow  on  the  string,  or  like  a  hound  still  leashed, 
waits  white  Bonito,  with  grandly  curving  neck,  sharp-pointed 
ears  alert,  eyes  flashing,  and  the  rounded  flanks  heaving  and 
quivering.  Then,  so  the  ancient  story  runs,  the  word  was 
given,  the  white  steeds  bounded  in  the  air,  flew  down  the  ave- 
nues, and  past  the  glittering  cavalcade,  and  so  sped  rapidly 
away. 

They  rode  down  the  beach 

As  the  swift  swallows  fly, 
With  the  surf  thundering  in 

And  the  winds  rushing  by. 

They  rode  over  mountains, 

They  rode  o'er  the  lea, 
They  rode  by  the  brook  side 

And  by  the  blue  sea. 

They  rode  into  cloudland, 

Up  through  the  clear  sky, 
Past  the  dwellings  of  night 

Where  the  sleeping  stars  lie, 


26  IN  THE  LOVELY  LAND  OF  SUNSET. 

And  the  white  steeds  grew  misty 
And  shadowy  and  dim, 

And  the  dark  Alessandro 
Grew  spectral  and  grim, 

And  they  vanished  from  sight 
At  the  close  of  the  day,— 

But  a  white  cloud  went  floating 
Down  over  the  bay. 

And  still,  so  'tis  said, 

Sea  and  blue  sky  between, 

Just  over  the  Rincon 

May  that  white  cloud  be  seen. 


And  to  that  quiet  spot  beneath  the  shadowy  oak  another 

—also  a  king's  messenger — has   come   and  gone.      And  as 

yon    fleecy  clouds  float  ever  over   Rincon's  rocky  point,  so 

here  there  hovers  softly  and  unchangingly  a  gracious  sunlit 

memory. 


O-FLov/FR-ETVER 


V 


TIS  night  where  the  hills  rise  out  of  the  lea  ; 
Xot  a  soul  is  abroad  save  Bonney  and  me  ; 
The  wide,  silent  heavens  stretch  away  overhead, 
And  the  blossoming  wild  flowers  cushion  mv  bed. 


Our  camp  fire  burns  low,  Bonney  slumbers  and 

sleeps, 

Whilst  yon  sentinel  owl  his  lone  vigil  keeps; 
But  my  soul  down  the  valley  is  keeping  love's 

tryst, 
And  the  steed  and  his  master  fain  would  follow, 

I  wist. 

(),  beautiful  crest  where  the  wild  flowers  grow, 
There's  a  beautiful  soul  in  the  valley 
below  ! 


,  / 


••  i/a.-jit 

^  m 


\ 


/if 


3O  IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

No  flower  ever  bloomed  on  thy  bosom  so  fair  ; 
No  spirit  so  sweet  in  thy  dew-laden  air  ; 

Never  twilight  so  soft  as  the  light  in  her  eye  ; 
Sounds  her  voice  sweet  and  low  like  the  breath  of  a  si 
A  beautiful  soul  with  life  all  aglow  ; 
Oh  !  a  fair,  golden  soul  in  the  valley  below. 

And  there's  a  clear  sunny  home  by  the  billowy  sea, 
Y\  here  a  fond  he,  .rt  is  waiting  for  Bonney  and  me. 
Ah  !   Bonney,  brave  Bonney,  my  glorious  gray, 
At  the  first  flush  of  dawn  we  must  up  and  away. 

O,  beautiful  stars,  that  sparkle  and  glow, 
Look  down  ere  day  breaks  and  these  silent  shades  go. 
Look  clown  on  that  spot  where  the  blue  billows  roll, 
And  oh, —  is  it  well  with  the  golden  soul  ? 

My  spirit  is  drooping  with  portents  of  woe. 
Does  sorrow  forebode  by  the  sea  below  ? 
Why  seems  the  night  heavy  and  pulseless  and  still, 
And  why  is  my  startled  heart  nerveless  and  chill  ? 
*  *  *  *  -::•  *  # 

Up,  Bonney,  brave  Bonney,  my  glorious  gray  ! 

To  rescue  and  save  we  must  off  and  away. 

'Tis  a  race  with  grim  Death  down  the  hills  to  the  sea,' 

And  the  golden  soul  shall  our  guerdon  be. 

Hark  to  the  clang  of  the  hoof's  ringing  blow  ! 
Back  rush  the  hills  past  our  path  as  we  go. 
On,  Bonney,  on  !     Away  and  away  ! 
Life,  whrn  Death's  riding,  brooks  no  delay. 


32  IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

On,  Bonney,  on  !     The  pale  horse  is  gaining  ; 

His  hoofs  on  the  rock  like  storm  beats  are  raining. 

Spare  not,  oh,  spare  not  the  laboring  breath, 

For  we  ride  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of   Death. 

O,  Father,  have  mercy  !     The  pale  steed  hath  passed  us. 
Let  not  Thine  anger  rend  us  and  blast  us. 
Shall  our  cries  but  rebound  from  the  portals  of  heaven  ? 
Shall  faith  and  shall  hope  from  their  bases  be  riven  ? 
Shall  not  truth  still  be  true,  and  Thy  promise  unbroken  ? 
Shall  the  dear  voice  be  stilled  that  love  only  hath  spoken  ? 

The  heavens  are  shut,  unheard  is  our  cry  ; 

Our  woe  is  unseen  by  the  Infinite  Eye  ; 

The  fountain  of  mercy  has  failed  at  its  source, 

And  the  pale  horse  speeds  on,  unchecked,  in  his  course. 

Cease,  Bonney,  cease  !      Life  is  undone  ! 
The  race  now  is  over,  and  the  gaunt  steed  has  won  ; 
The  light  has  gone  out  in  our  home  by  the  sea, 
And  darkness  and  silence  shall  our  welcoming  be. 

Nevermore  at  home-coming  shall  that  loving  heart  greet  us; 
Nevermore,  as  of  old,  shall  the  golden  soul  meet  us; 
Nevermore,  Bonney,  boy,  shall  that  gentle  hand  feed  thee  ; 
Nevermore  the  sweet  voice  to  the  fresh  grasses  lead  thee. 

Alone,  dear  old  comrade,  alone,  you  and  I  ! 
Life's  sun  has  gone  down,  with  no  stars  in  the  sky. 
The  world  of  its  brightness  and  joy  is  bereft, 
And  we've  only  a  beautiful  memory  left. 


.- 

" 


(©eeolote. 


-t— »• 


Jecolote. 


Tecolot'i's  white  homestead  lies  at  the  foot  of  a  towering  amphitheater  of  green  hills. 


r 


'HOU  art  bride  of  the  hills, 

Tecolote. 

How  gently  and  firmly  their  giant  arms  hold  thee  ! 
In  what  blissful  content  they  lovingly  fold  thee, 
Fair  bride  of  the  hills, 
Tecolote. 

Thou'rt  a  dove  in  its  nest, 

Tecolote. 

Of  peace  and  repose  is  thy  little  nest  builded, 
With  the  sunshine  of  joy  are  its  snowy  walls  gilded. 
White  dove  in  its  nest, 
Tecolote. 

Art  thou  robed  in  thy  best, 

Tecolote  ? 
And  daintily  cared  for  thy  nest, 

Tecolote  ? 

For  thy  groom,  the  green  hills,  is  in  gorgeous  array, 
And  thy  mate  plumes  himself  in  his  raiment  so  gay. 
Thou  art  bride  of  the  hills, 

Tecolote. 
Thou'rt  a  dove  in  its  nest, 

Tecolote. 


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MEG,  blue-eyed,  golden-haired,  fly-away  Meg,  with  her  heart 
full  of  love  and  her  thoughts  full  of  fairies  and  Wonder- 
land, sat  in  the  white  sand  of  the  beach  at  play,  digging  won- 
derful caves  and  great  castles  and  palaces,  and  looking  off 
over  the  sea  to  far-away  Santa  Cruz,  and  she  wondered  what 
strange  things  the  shadowy  island  contained. 

Now  Meg  was  not  dressed  for  play,  but  wore  her  lovely 
Kate  Greenaway  dress  and  her  black  silk  stockings  and  pretty 
low  shoes,  which  were  tied  with  a  silken  ribbon.  And  she 
had  on  her  very  best  hat  and  her  new  kid  gloves  with  buttons 
and  buttons  running  way  up  her  arms. 

After  a  little  Meg  ceased  her  play  and  listened  to  the 
waves  as  they  went  murmuring  by.  There  seemed  to  be  ever 
and  ever  so  many  dear  little  child  waves  that  went  dancing 
and  rippling  and  laughing  along  : 

Lip-pi-ty,  lip-pi-ty,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! 
Lip-pi-ty,  lip-pi-ty,  ha,  ha,  ha! 

And  some   pretty  rough  boy  waves   that  went  leaping  and 
tumbling  over  each  other, 

Flippity,  floppity, 
Hi,  hi,  hi! 

and  a  few  kind,  gray-bearded  old  waves  that  smiled  at  Meg 
as  they  passed  slowly  and  sedately  on  their  way, 

Lip-lap  !  lip-lap  ! 


64  IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

After  Meg  had  listened  to  them  for  a  while,  she  looked  up 
the  beach,  and  behold,  there  was  a  great  fleet  of  fairies  just 
coming  round  Castle  Rock  ! 

Oh,  there  were  thousands  and  thousands  of  the  tiniest 
baby  fairies  —  wee,  pink  and  white  dots  of  fairies  —  in  green, 
lily-pad  boats  set  round  the  edges  with  pearls  and  cushioned 
all  over  with  eider-down.  Then  came  myriads  of  fairy  chil- 
dren in  boats  of  shells  with  golden  masts  and  satin  sails  of 
blue  and  red  and  violet  and  orange.  And  they  were  having  a 
splendid  time  and  singing  merrily  as  they  sailed  over  the  sil- 
very sea. 

Now  the  sea  glistened  so  brightly,  the  waves  rippled  so 
gently,  the  boats  were  so  beautiful,  and  the  fairies  so  happy, 
that  poor  Meg's  heart  began  to  be  very  sad  to  think  she 
couldn't  go  sailing  in  a  lovely  boat,  too,  but  must  sit  on  the 
beach  all  alone.  And  she  bowed  her  head  down  in  her  hands 
till  the  sunny  curls  hid  her  face,  and  she  sobbed  and  sobbed 
as  if  her  heart  would  break.  But  when  she  looked  up,  there 
was  the  most  beauteous,  marvelous  boat  that  ever  was  seen, 
sailing  right  up  to  the  beach  at  her  feet. 

Then  Meg  was  so  pleased  and  surprised  that  her  sobs 
stuck  fast  in  her  throat  where  they  were,  and  the  tears  just 
hung  on  the  ends  of  her  eyelashes  and  never  dropped  off. 
This  wonderful  boat  was  made  of  a  great  tortoise  shell,  scal- 
loped and  polished  and  curving  away  up  behind.  It  was 
lined  throughout  with  mother-of-pearl,  and  the  velvet  cush- 
ions were  purple  and  azure.  It  was  not  like  the  others,  for  it 
had  neither  mast  nor  sail.  But  above  it  there  floated  an  awn- 
ing of  silvery  satin  embroidered  with  gold.  Into  the  middle 
and  four  corners  of  the  awning  were  woven  small  golden 


66 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 


hooks.  Up  from  these  hooks  ran  numberless  threads  of  gos- 
samer, each  shining  thread  made  fast  round  the  neck  of  a 
white-winged  gull,  so  that  as  the  beautiful  birds  with  their 
tireless  wings  bore  up  the  glistening  canopy,  they  seemed 
like  a  radiant  cloud  hovering  over  the  boat.  And  perched  on 
the  crest  of  the  bow  as  it  rose  high  up  from  the  water,  was 
an  eagle  with  wide-spreading  wings  hewn  out  of  a  rock  of  blue 
sapphire  and  carved  by  the  marvelous  skill  of  the  gnomes  in 
their  workshop  under  the  mountains.  The  eyes  were  two 
great  diamonds  so  big  and  so  brilliant  they  blazed  and  spark- 
led and  shone  in  the  sunlight.  Though  larger  and  fairer  than 
all  the  rest,  this  boat  did  not  sail  of  itself,  but  was  drawn  by 
a  hundred  shining  brown  porpoises,  harnessed  with  traces  of 
silk  made  fast  to  a  silver  ring  in  the  eagle's  beak,  and  they 
flashed  and  shimmered  in  the  sunlight,  as  they  went  leaping 
and  plunging  along. 

Now,  when  this  beautiful,  glittering,  fairy-built  boat,  with 
its  fluttering  flags  and  its  bird-borne  canopy,  sailed  up  to  the 
beach  with  a  sweeping  curve,  no  wonder  Meg's  sobs  felt  them- 
selves out  of  place,  and  hid  down  deep 
in  her  throat ;  no  wonder  her  eyes 
grew  so  round  and  so  bright 
that  the  poor  little  tears  were 
scared  and  jumped  off 
quick  from  the  ends  of 
her  lashes,  and 
fell  away  down 
to  the  ground 
and  died. 


• 


LAND 


LAVGHING 

WATEfV 


\ 


r 


&\\ver  WtVVes 
T\e\\  come 


cV  and 


Lfansl  of  [fatiin?  Water3. 


A  S  the  boat  glided  up  to  the  landing,  a  boy,  straight  as  an 
**  arrow,  with  a  winsome  face,  and  a  frank,  fearless,  laughing 
eye,  stepped  ashore.  He  wore  a  blue  sailor's  jacket,  with 
buttons  of  gold,  and  with  golden  anchors  on  either  shoulder 
and  cuff,  and  had  a  jaunty  white  hat  and  trousers,  "with  sil- 
ver buckles  on  his  knee."  He  ran  up  the  steps,  and.  taking 
off  his  hat,  bowed  very  low  to  Meg  as  he  said  : 

"  I'm  Captain  Bobby  Shafto,  who  went  to  sea,  and  this  is 
my  ship.  Who  are  you.  little  girl,  and  what  makes  your  eye- 
lids so  wet,  and  your  throat  stick  out  so?" 

Then  Meg  told  him  who  she  was,  and  how  she  had  been 
crvincr  because  she  couldn't  t^o  sailing  with  the  fairies.  Then 

*          O  O  o 

Captain    Bobby,  who  was  a  very  gallant  little  fellow,  bowed 
very  low  again,  and  sang,  in  a  merry,  mischievous  way  : 

"  I'm  Bobby  Shafto,  as  you  see, 
With  silver  buckles  on  my  knee, 
Will  you,  Meg,  go  sail  with  me, 
With  pretty  Bobby  Shafto  ?  " 

When  Meg  heard  Bobby's  invitation,  her  face  was  a  sight 
to  behold.  She  was  really  going  to  go  sailing,  after  all,  and 
in  the  very  loveliest  boat  on  the  sea,  and  with  Bobby  Shafto, 
too.  Meg  knew  all  about  Bobby  Shafto,  and  had  wondered 
a  great  many  times  how  he  looked,  and  when  he  would  come 
home  from  sea,  and  who  it  was  he  was  froin^  to  marrv.  She 


6. 


70  IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

was  very  glad,  indeed,  to  see  him,  and  smiled  with  a  light 
and  happy  heart  as  she  thanked  him  for  his  kind  invitation, 
and  told  him  she  would  like  very  much  to  go  sailing  with 
him  in  his  beautiful  boat.  So  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  led 
her  down  the  steps,  helped  her  into  the  boat,  and  gave  her  a 
seat  on  the  velvet  cushions.  Then  Captain  Bobby  blew  three 
blasts  through  a  golden  horn,  and  the  shining  porpoises,  the 
snow-white  gulls,  the  pearl-lined  boat,  and  the  happy  children 
sailed  smoothly  clown  the  bay.  They  passed  a  great  many  of 
the  fairy  boats,  and,  as  Meg  listened  to  the  low  murmuring 
of  the  waves,  the  soft,  reedlike  call  of  the  gulls,  and  the  gen- 
tle flutter  of  their  wings,  she  thought  she  had  never  had  such 
a  good  time  in  all  her  life.  After  they  had  sailed  on  for  a 
time,  they  came  to  a  wonderfully  beautiful  country,  a  sunlit, 
peaceful  land,  a  land  of  rest  and  loveliness.  When  Meg 
asked  Bobby  what  it  was,  he  told  her  it  was  El  Montecito, 
the  fairy  land  of  Laughing  Water.  He  said  the  brooks  here 
always  rippled  and  sang  over  their  pebbly  beds,  and  the  sea 
always  seemed  to  be  laughing  lightly  and  merrily,  and  he 
guessed  this  was  what  gave  the  beautiful  country  its  name. 

"  There  are  some  queer  stories  about  Laughing  Water," 
Bobby  went  on,  "but  I  can't  remember  only  about  little 
babies  being  found  in  the  flowers  that  grow  here.  You  see, 
Meg,  the  angels  are  so  happy  in  heaven  that  they  cry  some- 
times in  the  evening  for  no  other  reason  under  the  sun,  but 
just  because  they  haven't  got  quite  so  long  to  live  there  as 
they  had  in  the  morning.  And  so  the  dew  —  which  is  noth- 
ing but  angels'  tears,  you  know  —  comes  down  out  of  the  sky 
at  twilight  in  little,  clear,  round  drops,  and  hides  in  the 
flowers,  and  in  the  morning  every  single  dewdrop  has  turned 


72  IX    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

into  a  baby,  and  they  are  all  asleep  in  their  flower  beds.      All 
the  little  children  along  the  coast  know  it." 

"  But  I  never  heard  anything  about  it  before,  Bobby. 
Please  go  on,"  urged  Meg. 

"There's  a  little  girl  down  at  San   Diego  knows  ever  so 
many  verses  that  a  beautiful  fairy  lady  taught  her,  and  they 
tell  ever  so  much  about  it.     One  verse  I  remember  says  : 
'And  the  morn  never  breaks 
O'er  the  blossoming  hills, 
But  the  harebell  and  morning  glory, 

And  the  velvet  cell  of  the  tuberose  deep, 
Cradles  a  babe  in  its  first  sweet  sleep 
More  fair  than  the  cherubs  of  story." 
"What  are  cherubs,  Bobby?" 

'  Oh,  cherubs  are  nice  little  girls,  only  they've  got  wings. 
I  guess  you'll  be  a  cherub  sometime,  Meg." 

"  Don't  you  know  anything  more  about  the  babies, 
Bobby?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  most  always  find  them  in  the  great  calla 
lilies ;  they  are  so  big  and  velvety,  you  know.  Another 
verse  I  heard  that  little  girl  singing  one  time  says  : 


10 


\ 


"And  in  the  morning,  whenever  the  ocean  is  calm 
and  smooth,  and  the  wind  is  fair,  the  babies  are  placed 
in  the  fairies'  little  shell  boats,  and  covered  and  tucked  in 
with  blankets  made  out  of  cobwebs  and  the  fiber  of  lilies, 
and  lined  with  the  purple  down  of  violets  and  pansies, 
and  then,  with  a  fairy  pilot  for  each,  the  bright  satin  sails 
are  set,  and  they  go  sailing  down  the  coast  toward  life 
and  the  world." 

Now  some  of  the  things  which  Bobby  couldn't  re- 
member were  these  :  That 
the  wide,  white  belt  in  the 
heavens  at  night,  which  is 
called  the  Milky  Way,  is 
really  the  pasture  land  that 


74 


IN  THE  LOVELY  LAND  OK  SUNSET.  75 

belongs  to  the  mystic  Montecito.  It  is  a  fair,  fertile  meadow, 
and  the  reason  it  looks  so  white  is  because  it  is  covered  all 
over  with  sweet,  white  clover.  So,  when  in  the  morning  you 
see  in  the  sky  a  little  white,  foamy  cloud,  you  may  know  that 
the  fairies  have  been  to  the  meadows,  and  are  carrying  home 
the  morning's  milk,  all  rich  and  sweet  and  fresh,  for  the 
babies,  who  are  just  waking  up  in  their  home  by  the  gentle 
ocean.  And  every  day,  when  the  hour  comes  for  the  babies' 
nap,  the  sun  hides  himself  in  a  cloud,  the  great  rugged  moun- 
tains cast  a  cool  shadow,  the  winds  rock  the  flower  cradles 
very  gently,  a  humming-bird  hovers  over  each  little  bed,  and 
fans  very  softly,  and  a  wonderful  bird-choir  up  in  an  organ 
loft  in  some  very  tall  trees  in  the  midst  of  the  beautiful  coun- 
try sings  a  low,  simple  lullaby,  and  the  babies  all  fall  asleep 
at  once,  and  everything  in  Laughing  Water  is  hushed  and 
still.  Every  morning  the  merry  ground  squirrels  bring  the 
babies  marshmallows,  and  sweetmeats  made  from  the  almond 
and  walnut,  and  chatter  and  frisk  away,  till  the  happy  babies 
laugh  and  smile  at  them.  Midway  between  the  mountains 
and  the  sea  there  is  a  sunny,  rounded  knoll,  called  San  Lean- 
dro.  This  is  the  beautiful  country's  central  point.  Toward 
it  all  eyes  are  turned  with  love  and  reverence,  for  here  is 
the  palace  of  its  Queen. 


,  '. 


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IX    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET.  "9 

Now  it  so  chanced  that  as  Meg  and  Bobby  slowly  sailed 
past,  there  was  a  little  fleet  of  the  babies  just  setting  out  on 
their  long  voyage.  On  the  beach  stood  the  Queen  of  Laugh- 
ing Water,  the  dear,  sweet-faced  fairy  godmother  of  all  the 
babies,  with  her  eyes  full  of  tears  as  she  bade  good-bye  to 
the  little  voyagers  ;  and  the  sound  of  music  came  floating 
over  the  water,  and  as  Meg  listened  she  found  it  was  the 
bird-choir  singing  a  song  of  godspeed  and  farewell.  A  hun- 
dred canary  birds  trilled  the  soprano,  a  hundred  turtle-doves 
cooed  out  the  alto,  a  hundred  meadow  larks  warbled  the 
tenor,  and  a  hundred  great  owls  sang  the  deep  bass. 

THE  FAIRIES'  SONG  OF  FAREWELL  TO  THE  BABIES. 

Sail  away,  sail  away,  o'er  the  blue  billow, 

To  the  beautiful  life  that  is  waiting  for  thee. 

Ah,  warm  be  thy  welcome,  and  downy  thy  pillow, 
And  peaceful  and  happy  thy  life's  journey  be. 

Sail  away,  sail  away,  o'er  the  still  water, 

Little  somebody's  son,  mamma's  waiting  for  thee; 

And  sail  away  home,  little  somebody's  daughter, 
For  papa  is  longing  his  baby  to  see. 

Sail  away,  sail  away,  God's  little  treasure, 

With  our  loving  farewells  o'er  the  wide,  waiting  sea, 

In  all  of  life's  sorrows,  its  smiles,  and  its  pleasure, 

In  the  dear  castle  home  we'll  be  watching  o'er  thee. 


11 


A-TER  leaving  Montecito,  the  Land  of  Laughing  Water, 
Captain  Bobby  Shafto  changed  his  course,  and  made  for 
the  dim  and  shadowy  islands  beyond  the  channel.  When  they 
had  sailed  on  for  a  time,  Meg  noticed  a  lot  of  packages  and 
parcels  and  small  boxes  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  asked 
Bobby  what  he  was  going  to  do  with  them. 

"Take  them  to  Mother  Goose  Island,"  answered  Bobby. 
Meg's  eyes  opened  wider  and  wider,  and  her  mouth  puckered 
and  puckered,  till  she  laughed  out  a  clear,  happy  laugh. 

"Oh,  Captain  Bobby,"  said  she,  "are  we  really  going 
where  all  the  Mother  Goose  people  live?"  And  Bobby  said 
yes,  they  were. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad,  so  glad  !"  said  Meg,  as  her  eyes  grew 
brighter  than  the  diamond  eyes  of  the  eagle. 

Xow  it  wras  not  verv  long  ere  our  little  vovagers  reached 

*  o  *      o 

Mother  Goose  Island,  which  most  people  call  the  Island  of 
Santa  Cruz — but  that  is  because  they  have  never  been  there, 
and  know  no  better.  Meg  found  it  a  very  curious  place  in- 
deed. The  mountains  were  wild  and  rugged,  but  the  fields 
were  delightfully  green,  the  trees  all  leafed  out,  the  flowers  in 
blossom,  and  there  was  a  high  hill  and  a  pebbly  brook  near  the 
landing.  Captain  Bobby  helped  Meg  ashore,  the  porpoises 
were  unharnessed  and  fed,  the  faithful  gulls  released  from  the 

awning,  and  then  the  two  children,  with  hand  clasped  in  hand, 

83 


84  IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 

started  on  foot  up  a  winding  road.  The  first  thing  Meg  no- 
ticed was  a  very  funny  garden,  full  of  "cockle  shells  and  silver 
bells,"  and  she  knew  right  away  that  the  little  woman  at  the 
gate  was  "  Mistress  Mary."  She  seemed  very  much  put  out 
this  morning,  because  her  "  little  maids,"  instead  of  growing 
"all  in  a  row,"  as  she  thought  they  ought  to,  went  higgledy- 
piggledy,  every  way.  And  she  was  just  as  "contrary"  as 
ever,  for  she  wouldn't  answer  Bobby  when  he  spoke  to  her. 
Next  they  came  to  a  small,  white  cottage,  "under  the  hill," 
and  on  the  porch  sat  the  same  "old  woman  living  there  still." 

"Good  morning,  Granny,"  said  Bobby. 

"  Is  that  you,  Bobby  Shafto,  and  did  you  bring  my  green 
tea  and  sassafras  root  from  Santa  Barbara  ? "  piped  out  the 
old  woman  in  a  high,  quivery-quavery  voice.  Bobby  told  her 
it  was  down  at  the  landing,  and  would  be  up  very  soon,  and 
then  they  went  along  and  began  to  go  up  the  hill,  and  when 
they  were  about  half-way  up  they  came  to  two  little  green 
graves  by  the  roadside,  with  the  violets  and  poppies  growing 
all  over  them. 

"  Oh,  the  poor  children,"  said  Meg.  "  Who  were  they, 
Bobby?"  Bobby  told  her  'twas  Jack  and  Jill,  and  this  was 
where  "Jack  fell  down  and  broke  his  crown,  and  Jill  came 
tumbling  after."  Then  Meg  went  up  close,  and  read  on  the 
small,  white  gravestones  : 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 


"  Here  lies  Jack, 
\Yho  died  from  a  whack 
On  the  back 
Of  his  head. 


Poor  little  Jill 
Her  pail  did  spill, 
And  now  doth  fill 
This  grave." 


When  they  came  to  the  next  house,  which  was  made  of 
brown  adobe,  there  was  an  awfully  thin,  weazened-up  old  man 
leaning  over  the  gate.  He  called  out  to  Bobby  in  a  funny, 
cracked  voice  : 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Shafto."      And  Bobby  answered: 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Sprat." 

Then  Jack  Sprat  looked  over  his  shoulder,  as  if  he  was 
afraid  of  something,  and  said,  quick-like  : 

"  S-s-sh  !  Mr.  Shafto,  please  not  to  speak  quite  so  loud, 
somebody  might  hear  you.  Have  you  brought  me  a  nice  lean 
piece  of  roast  beef  to-day?" 

Before  Bobby  could  answer,  Mrs.  Sprat,  who  was  a  big, 
fat  woman  with  a  red  face,  came  rushing  out  of  the  door,  and 
called  out  : 

"Jacob  Sprat,  how  dare  you!  Go  into  the  house  this 
minute,  sir  !  Don't  you  know  that  lean  meat  is  bad  for  my 
liver  ?  And  now,  Bobby  Shafto,  if  you've  got  a  fine  fat  roast, 
let's  have  it." 

When  they  had  walked  on  a  way  further,  Meg  saw  a  large, 
handsome  house,  with  a  very  wide  veranda  in  front,  with  a 


. 


' 


•     '  " v     #,^4p^ 

•-'--  •-*"  •*" ,  '•'-•    '*    ^  "*  .^  ^  >•'    *"•  **-' 

--•"'"——  '    ,,-   -  ^     '' 

-    ^-  -""~      "f        •      ^~,    -*-*•   ...jj^  '••'&?-  *"~         •    _;>  .  vnfc 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET.  87 

great  passion  vine  running  over  it,  and  grand  old  oak  and 
pepper  trees  and  lovely  beds  of  roses  and  geraniums  in  the 
yard.  On  the  veranda,  in  a  big,  big  chair,  that  looked  like  a 
throne,  sat  a  big,  big  man,  with  a  very  long  beard  and  very 
white  hair,  with  a  crown  on  his  head  and  a  pipe  in  his  mouth, 
and  on  a  platform  beside  him  was  a  table,  and  on  the  table  a 
great  silver  bowl  with  wine  in  it.  And  behind  the  great  chair 
stood  three  men  in  green  and  yellow  uniforms,  fiddling  away 
for  dear  life.  Of  course,  Meg  knew  it  was  old  King  Cole. 
He  saw  them  coming,  and  shouted  out  in  a  voice  as  big  as  a 
house  : 

"  Hullo,  Bobby  Shafto  !  Did  you  bring  my  tobacco  and 
the  cask  of  wine,  as  I  told  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  your  Majesty  ;  they  are  down  at  the  landing,"  re- 
plied Bobby,  bowing  very  low. 

"  And  who  is  the  pretty  maid  with  you,  Master  Bobby  ?  " 

"This  is  little  Miss  Meg,  your  Majesty,  from  the  country 
over  the  sea." 

"Oho,  oho,"  said  the  King,  and,  turning  to  Meg,  he  said: 

"  Have  you  a  king  in  your  country  over  the  sea, 
With  his  pipe  and  his  bowl  and  his  fiddlers  three, 
That's  big  and  fat  and  jolly  like  me  ?" 

and  then  he  laughed  till  his  great  double  chin  waved  up  and 
down  and  his  fat  sides  shook.  But  Meg  bowed  very  low  just 
as  she  had  seen  Bobby  do,  and  said  she  had  never  seen  any 
kings  in  her  country.  When  they  had  passed  on  so  far  that 
Old  King  Cole  surely  couldn't  hear,  Meg  told  Bobby  she 
didn't  think  much  of  kings,  they  had  such  red  noses  and 
wobbly  chins,  and  were  so  fat.  Her  papa,  she  said,  was  a 


88 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET. 


thousand  million  times  nicer  than  any  king  that  ever  lived. 
Just  as  she  said  this  they  heard  a  loud,  sweet  sound  like  a 
bell,  and  it  went  echoing,  echoing  all  over  the  island.  Meg 
wondered  what  it  could  be,  and  Bobby  told  her  it  was  the 
Dickory,  Dickory,  Dock  clock  striking  the  tidal  hour.  It 
struck  with  a  kind  of  measured,  musical  chant,  and  it  seemed 

to  say, 

"  The  years  come, 

The  years  go, 
Summer's  sun 

And  winter's  snow. 
Heigho,  heigho ! 
I  tell  you  so 
To  let  you  know 
The  tides  below 
Begin  to  flow." 

Bobby  said  that  they  had  been  having  such  a  good  time  he 
had  no  idea  it  was  so  late;  that  they  must  hurry  down  to  the 
landing  right  away,  or  he  should  not  be  able  to  make  the  other 
islands  before  the  tide  would  be  against  them. 
Just  before  they  reached  the  landing  they 
heard  a  great  hue  and  cry,  and  saw  a 
crowd  of  men  and  boys  running  along 
the  road.  When  they  came  nearer 
they  found  that  Old  Mother  Hub- 
bard's  poor  dog  had  stolen  Mrs. 
Jacob  Sprat's  fat  roast  of  beef,  and 


was  running  away  with  it. 


IN    THE    LOVELY    LAND    OF    SUNSET.  89 

When  they  finally  arrived  at  the  landing  there  were  ever 
so  many  of  the  Mother  Goose  people  waiting  to  give  Bobby 
their  orders.  But  he  wouldn't  attend  to  any  of  them  until 
he  had  helped  Meg  into  the  boat  and  seen  her  seated.  As 
she  passed  through  the  crowd,  they  were  all  very  kind  to  her, 
and  invited  her  to  come  and  visit  their  island  again,  which 
Meg  told  them  she  would  be  very  glad  to  do.  She  overheard 
the  Old  Woman  who  lived  in  a  shoe  telling  Simple  Simon 
that,  really,  her  family  had  become  so  large  she  had  got  to 
build  on  a  lean-to.  When  Meg  was  seated  in  the  beautiful 
boat  again.  Captain  Bobby  stepped  ashore  and  was  very  busy 
taking  down  the  people's  orders  in  a  little  memorandum  book. 
But  at  length  he  was  all  through,  the  hundred  seal  brown 
porpoises  were  made  fast  to  the  beautiful  boat  by  their  silken 
traces,  the  2"ossamer  threads  atrain  encircled  the  necks  of  the 

o  o 

faithful  gulls,  the  canopy  of  silver  and  gold  rose  into  its 
place.  Captain  Bobby  stepped  into  the  boat,  three  blasts 
were  blown  on  the  golden  horn,  and  Meg  was  off  again  over 
the  silvery  sea.  The  people  all  shouted. 

"Good  bye,  Captain  Shafto !  Good  bye,  pretty  Miss 
Meg!" 

"Good  bve,  good  bve!"  called  Bobbv  and  Me<r,  and  the 

*  o  *  * 

strange  island,  with  its  rugged  mountains,  its  rocky  shores, 
its  hills  and  its  brooks  and  its  strange,  funny  people,  began 
very  soon  to  grow  smaller  and  smaller,  and  faint  and  dim, 
and  finally  faded  from  sight. 

Then  Meg  asked  Bobbv  if  she  might  see  his  order-book. 

C5  *  O 

Bobby  said  she  might,  and  she  read  it  all.  Every  order  was 
written  neatly  and  in  a  business-like  way.  Here  are  some  of 
the  orders  Meg  found  : 


90  IN  THE  LOVELY   LAND  OF  SUNSET. 

FOR  OLD   KING  COLE. 

i  tloz.  briar-wood  pipes, 
i  bunch  fiddler's  strings, 
i  bottle  anti-fat. 

FOR  THE  OLD  WOMAN   WHO   LIVED  IN  A  SHOE. 

i  piece  sole  leather, 

i  piece  calf-skin, 

i  piece  shoemaker's  wax, 

i  tloz.  bottles  Mrs.  Winslovv's  Soothing  Syrup. 

FOR  THE  Cow  THAT  JUMPED  OVER  THE  MOON. 
i  set  new  springs  for  legs. 

FOR  OLD  FATHER  GRAYBEARD. 

1  set  false  teeth. 

FOR  THE  OLD   MAN  OF  TOBAGO, 

2  Ibs.  rice, 
i  Ib.  sago, 

1  mutton  chop. 

FOR  LITTLE  BO-PEEP. 

2  cloz.  artificial  tails  (for  sheep), 

i  bottle  Spalding's  prepared  glue. 


f 


ERE  long  their  gallant  boat  bore  the  children  on  toward 
another  island,  that,  some  way,  seemed  lonely  and  sad,  and 
it  made  Meg  feel  sorrowful  just  to  look  at  it  —  everything  was 
so  silent  and  mournful.  Bobby  said  the  folks  in  Santa  Barbara 
called  it  Santa  Rosa,  but  other  folks  called  it  the  Island  of 
By-Gone  Days,  and  sometimes  the  Isle  of  the  Olden  Time. 
It  was  a  queer,  spooky  place,  he  said.  The  trees  were  all  cov- 
ered with  the  drooping  silver  moss,  and  the  leaves  were  never 
green  at  all,  but  were  autumn  leaves  the  whole  year  round,  and 
kept  falling  and  coming  down  kind  of  soft  and  ghost-like.  And 
the  wind  whistled  through  the  caves  along  the  shore,  and  the 
surf  was  always  solemn  and  sad.  And  there  were  some  funny 
boxes  with  strings  to  them,  that  people  said  were  harps,  and 
the  wind  played  on  them  ;  but  he  said  he  couldn't  bear  to 
hear  them,  because  the  music  seemed  just  like  sobs  and  tears. 
And  the  big  gateway  at  the  entrance  was  all  grown  over  with 
ivies  and  forget-me-nots,  and  there  was  some  writing  in  the 
middle,  that  said  : 

"THE  PRESENT  is  A  PHANTOM;    THE  FUTURE    UNCERTAIN;    ONLY    THE 

PAST  ,5  SURE."  &m*oh  J*> 

'•  When  folks  get  old,"  continued  Bobby,  "  they  come  down 
here  and  remember  things  that  happened  years  and  years  ago. 
But  I  don't  see  what  they  want  to  come  for,  'cause  they  most 
alwavs  crv.  And  sometimes  folks  come  here  that  ain't  old  at 


. 

1  '•'.    •'' 

'ff&?f  "••-  '- 
•  ''V'- 

•  .     .                       '•'                  .  .,-;'    •  '••::/'  ',    '  '  /•' 

.    ..••           ^^1 

;  ''•?/ 

;                      '"                  i  .  -,  •*  '           ;  ••''  :    5iT<^.',                          '\"'-'"- 

~'   '•* 

•  •     • 

i    k-    '  '•  -  ^-  ,'  ^^ 

IN  THE  LOVELY  LAND  OF  SUNSET.  95 

all,  and  they  bury  things.  Once  a  very  tall,  beautiful  lady,  all 
dressed  in  black,  came,  and  the  folks  said  she  was  a  queen  or 
something  once;  and  she  buried  a  splendid  sword  and  a  sol- 
dier's cap,  and,  for  all  she  was  such  a  great  lady,  she  knelt 
down  on  the  ground  and  cried,  and  cried.  Oh,  I  felt  awful 
sorry  for  her.  And  another  lady  came  one  time  and  buried  — 
what  do  you  think  ?  A  baby's  shoe,  all  stubby  and  worn. 
And  then  there  was  another  lady,  too,  and  she  wasn't  old  a 
bit,  and  she  was  the  most  beautifulest  lady  I  ever  saw.  She 
wasn't  dressed  in  black,  though.  And  when  she  had  found  a 
nice,  shady  place  under  a  great  tree,  she  looked  all  around  to 
see  if  anybody  was  watching,  and  then  she  took  out  of  her 
dress  somebody's  picture  and  a  lock  of  hair,  and  kissed  them 
and  buried  them.  And  a  tall,  big  man  came  'way  down  here 
once  just  to  bury  some  old,  faded  flowers  that  weren't  good 
for  anything ;  and  when  he  was  coming  away,  I  asked  him 
what  made  folks  come  to  the  island  and  act  so  queer?  He 
didn't  say  a  word,  but  just  looked  at  me  for  a  minute,  and 
then  wrote  something  on  a  paper,  and  gave  it  to  me,  and  told 
me  to  keep  it  till  I  was  a  man,  and  then  I  would  understand 
it  all.  Here  is  the  paper  now,"  said  Bobby. 

"  Oh,  Bobby,  please  read  it,"  said  Meg. 

"  It's  all  mixed  up  so,  I  can't  tell  what  it  means,  but  I 
guess  he  felt  pretty  bad,"  said  Bobby,  and  then  he  read  : 


bew    \9^ 

L   f>~r-r 


\  r  4     v     / 7  • 

5o>    /       CA  LLil/Q. 

.  ^ 


;t  m  t 


I  be    tsol/ 

^    •        ' 


13 


OX  and  on,  over  the  silvery  sea  glides  the  beautiful  boat,  and 
quite  as  swiftly  and  steadily  glide  the  hours  away.  Meg 
is  so  absorbed  in  watching  the  islands  fade  in  the  distance, 
that  she  does  not  notice  how  near  the  day  is  drawing  to  its 
close.  But  of  a  sudden  the  islands  disappear  and  the  mystic 
boat  sails  into  the  midst  of  clouds  of  vermilion  and  amber. 
Nothing  can  be  seen  but  this  shadowy  circle  of  blending  light, 
and  there  comes  no  sound  but  the  rippling  of  the  water  under 
the  boat  and  the  low,  whistling  cry  of  the  gulls  and  the  soft 
flutter  of  their  wings.  For  a  long  time  they  sail  through  these 
rainbow-hued  clouds,  but  at  length  pass  out  into  such  a  burst 
of  sunlight,  so  radiant,  so  glorious,  that  Meg  has  never  seen 
its  equal  in  all  her  life.  And  while  she  is  lost  in  wonder  and 
amazement,  they  are  rapidly  borne  on  the  glistening  tide  far 
into  the  midst  of  the  setting  sun.  Before  them  stretches  a 
boundless  sea  of  glimmering,  shimmering  gold,  while  down 
from  the  hills  on  either  side  flow  numberless  brooks  of  violet, 
azure,  crimson,  orange,  and  emerald  green,  over  whose  banks 
throng  countless  hosts  of  queer  little  people,  busy  as  busy 
can  be,  dipping  their  tiny  arrows  into  the  radiant  colors,  and 
then  with  their  fairy  bent  bows  shooting  them  over  the  hills, 
away  toward  the  world,  a  glittering,  glowing,  sparkling 
shower  of  sunbeams.  But  soon  comes  a  strange,  wild,  flut- 
tering, whirring  sound,  and  Meg  clings  close  to  Bobby  in 
fright,  while,  like  a  gloomy  cloud,  the  great  black  birds  of 


99 


^2**     Jji  ;>.;•-• 
•-• ** 

. 


•  •  •  • 


IN    THE    LOVELY     LAND    OK    SUNSET 


101 


night  settle  thickly  down  over  the  molten  sea,  and  all  is  dark 
and  still.  But  on  through  the  night  sails  the  wonderful  boat. 
High  over  the  bows  the  blue  sapphire  eagle  keeps  watch  and 
ward,  its  fiery  diamond  eyes  gleaming  fiercely  over  the  water. 
On  and  still  on  they  float  through  the  midst  of  the  midnight 
sun  until  —  of  a  sudden,  Meg's  blue  eyes  fly  open  and  lo  !  it 
was  all  a  dream  —  that  lovely  land  of  Laughing  Water — the 
beautiful  boat  and  the  islands  so  strange  and  wonderful. 
The  beach  which  but  a  little 
time  aero  was  full  of  life  and 

o 

motion,  is  now  lonely  and  de- 
serted, the  tide  is  coming  in, 
the  winds  are  sighing  low  and 
mournfully,  Castle  Rock  frowns 
darkly  and  gloomily,  the  sun 
has  set  beyond  the  Mesa,  the 
Golden  Soul  has  passed  away, 
and  deep,  deep  shadows  are 
settling  down  on  Sunset  Land. 


